Disappearance

by Wiley, Ryan

  "I... uh... don't remember anything." Why do I have to be such a terrible liar? I can tell she doesn't believe me.

  "Interesting, Andrew. Very interesting," says Deputy Vogul. "I'm sorry again though, Andrew. I think you remember more about what he looked like than that. Why aren't you telling me the truth? I'm here to help you."

  "I'm not lying," I shout. "I was there and this is what I remember happening. Why don't you believe that?"

  In a triumphant manner, Deputy Vogul pulls out a set of pictures from a binder she's holding. My jaw hits the floor.

  Chapter 23

  The first picture Deputy Vogul shows me is an image of me lying up against a tree. That isn't what has me in disbelief. The shocking part is that in my right hand I'm holding the ax I bought - only it's covered in blood. In fact, my shirt is splattered with blood also. I try to have some sort of response, but nothing comes out. Deputy Vogul breaks the silence.

  "That was where we found you, Andrew. This is where we found Mr. Jones, Abby's kidnapper." She places another picture in front of me. The picture is of the kidnapper, at least from what I can tell. His body is completely mutilated from what looks like several crushing blows from an ax.

  It doesn't take a genius to put this together -- bloody ax and clothes on me, dead mutilated body nearby. My God, what have I done? How can this be? I don't remember any of this. While I get memory bursts here and there, this time I draw a blank. I remember falling down that hole and grabbing this Zach guy on the way down. Did I make all of that up in my head? Did I not want to face the truth?

  "I... uhh," this is all I can say. What is there to say? I'm sure there's more than enough evidence to prove I did this. Am I going to go to jail for life for something I don't even remember doing? Deputy Vogul seems to have read my mind and breaks the silence again.

  "Andrew, I can tell this is quite shocking to you and that you don't remember this happening. Is that correct?"

  "I don't remember this happening at all!" I blurt out. I'm not sure if I should have admitted this, but before I can think it through, Deputy Vogul continues.

  "I want you to know again Andrew I'm on your side. I can't imagine what it must be like to find out your wife has been kidnapped. I have two kids, and if I found out a kidnapper took them I would have done the same thing you did, maybe worse." She gives off a half smile. "I'm going to try to help you, but you have to trust me. I think your situation deals with a case I've been working on for over ten years now and I get a feeling you could be a real breakthrough in solving it. It's for this reason I'm going to help you out Andrew, so listen carefully and do exactly as I say."

  She looks into my eyes, as if to tell me to pay very close attention to every word.

  "Andrew, I'd like to make some small modifications to what you think happened. I have some evidence that may prove your innocence, but if you use your current story we could be in trouble. Does that sound all right?" she asks.

  "Yeah, sure," I say, very interested in what she's going to say next.

  "Everything you said about getting the phone call and going to the reservoir you can keep the same. You also need to keep the bit about you going and getting an ax first, because we already have testimony from the storeowner that you bought it. That whole story about you falling down in the hole with Zach obviously has to go, but I don't want you to say you don't remember anything. What you do remember is looking down in that hole and then, before you could turn around, someone came up behind you and put something over your mouth. Next thing you knew, you were in the hospital." She pauses for a second to let me digest the story. "If anyone asks you to provide any details about the attacker, you tell them you know nothing. You couldn't tell if they were male or female, tall or short, or if their skin was brown or blue. All you know is someone put some kind of rag over your face and you don't remember anything else. Got it?"

  "Yes, I got it," I say.

  "OK, good. I'll get a report drafted up. It's imperative you remember every detail of this story. Are you sure everything is crystal clear, Andrew?"

  "Yes, Deputy Vogul. Thank you so much!"

  "Don't mention it dear. Everything is going to be all right, I promise. I'll make sure the nurses give you the opportunity to see your wife soon. Take care of yourself. I'll be in touch." With that, she gets up and walks out of the room.

  I tell my parents my conversation with Deputy Vogul, including the modified story she told me. I leave out any details about the pictures Deputy Vogul showed me; I'm not sure they're ready to hear about that yet. I make it very clear they are not to tell anyone what I think really happened.

  About twenty minutes go by before Nurse Jackie walks in. I'm sure she's dying to know what Deputy Vogul and I discussed, but I think she's too scared to ask with my parents around.

  "Good news, Andrew. You can go see Abby now." After a brief pause she continues, "I'm not sure of her condition, but keep in mind having a loved one near can sometimes help with the healing process. Be sure to give her as much love and support as you can."

  I'm taken off guard. I finally get to see Abby! Even though she's in bad shape, I still can't wait to see her. I tell Nurse Jackie I'm ready and, with that, I get moved to a wheelchair. I've come a long way in the last few days. Eating, drinking, and all of that other stuff are becoming more normal. They still don't want me walking around, though. They say my medications can cause sudden dizziness so it's best that I remain sitting for a couple more days until they're reduced. I've taken a few steps, though, and seem to be doing fine so far.

  Nurse Jackie pushes me in the wheelchair with my parents following along behind her. I'm really starting to like Nurse Jackie. There's something about someone taking care of you during your most vulnerable moments that gives you a strong emotional connection with them. I make some small talk with her, asking her where she's from and where she went to school. She's from small-town Ohio like I am, and still in grad school at Ohio State. We talk about the football team, but when she tells me we're almost there I start to get incredibly nervous and the small talk ends.

  I take a deep breath and think about what I'm about to see. What kind of shape will she be in?

  "Here's her room," Nurse Jackie tells me. Outside the door are Abby's parents. When I'm pushed in, the room is quite large - much larger than mine. Abby's bed sits in the center against a wall. There aren't any tubes or wires hooked up to her, which is a huge relief to me. Maybe they're there but at least hidden from my view. Nurse Jackie pushes me next to her bed and leaves. Both Abby's and my parents are in the room with me - big family gathering.

  "Hey there, sweetie. How are you doing?" It chokes me just to say this. I look at Abby's face and it's still as beautiful as the first day we met. Even without makeup Abby is very pretty.

  She turns over slowly and tries to give me a smile. She then opens her mouth to speak, but not much comes out. I think she says "Hey" but it's hard for me to tell so I push my wheelchair up closer to her.

  "Abby, I love you so much, it's so great to see you. Everything is going to be OK sweetie, I promise." I put my hand on her arm and massage it gently. I get a hopeless feeling knowing there's really nothing I can do for her. No way to help her get better. She tries to speak again, but nothing comes out. She gives off a look of pain.

  "It's OK. You don't have to say anything now. Do you want some water or anything?" This is the only thing I can think of to do for her. When she nods, I'm happy to know I can help. I take the water sitting on the tray next to her and hold it up to her mouth. She takes a few swallows and I give her a big smile that she reciprocates. I stroke her hair and take in how much I missed seeing her face.

  For the next minute, there's really not much I can say -- at least, not with everyone around me. Somehow, Abby's father must pick up on what I'm thinking.

  "Why don't we leave them alone for a few minutes," he says. With that, everyone clears out of the room leaving just Abby and me. With the blinds down, nobody is there to see us. That's wh
y I'm shocked by what happens next.

  "Andrew, listen to me!" Abby says with surprising clarity. "We don't have a lot of time, so pay attention. How are you doing? Did they say how much longer you would be in here?"

  "Ummm, they said they were slowly taking me off my medications. I'm guessing in a few more days they might be able to let me go.

  "Good, get out of here as soon as possible. Just as soon as they'll let you."

  "Abby, what's going on?"

  "There's no time to explain. You need to get out of here as soon as you can. When you do, a man in a black car is going to come after you."

  "A man in a black car? Abby, what are you talking about?"

  "There's no time to explain, Andrew! Once he does, kill him. You have to kill him!"

  "Abby, are you OK? I'm worried about you."

  "I'm fine, just do it! He's going to try to kill you. If the police are involved that will only make it more likely he succeeds. You'll have the element of surprise in your favor. Buy a gun and do it. Don't come back to the hospital until you do. Do it as soon as possible, though; I can't fake being sick much longer. The doctors are starting to become suspicious."

  If this were anyone other than Abby, I'd have thought they had gone completely bat shit crazy. But I know her better than anyone else on Earth. She wouldn't be saying these things unless deep down inside she knew they were true. Still, the part of me that has to know every last detail speaks out.

  "Abby, just tell me what this is all about. Why on Earth do I have to kill someone?"

  She has no time to answer because the door opens and a doctor I've not seen before walks in.

  "Oh, well hello," he says. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize Abby had company. I presume you are..." he stops himself and checks his notebook. "You must be Andrew, correct?"

  "Yes, that's me." He introduces himself as Dr. Stevens and we shake hands.

  "I'm terribly sorry you have to see your wife in this shape. I'm doing everything in my power to help, but I'm afraid progress has been very slow. Nothing seems to work."

  For a brief moment I think this guy is joking with me. Then I remember Abby is putting on her best acting show. I look over and she's lying back down on her side with her eyes closed. How did she move so quickly?

  Abby is much better at acting than I am. I would never be able to pull off fake incoherence with a doctor like she's doing. Of course, she did do plays and other theater all through college, so a comatose patient should be an easy role for her.

  Dr. Stevens politely asks me to leave, and I wonder how much longer it will take before he realizes the true state of Abby's condition.

  Over the next couple days, I go over what Abby told me what seems like a million times. Each time it makes less and less sense. Physically though I'm doing extremely well. Nurse Jackie goes on and on about different charts and numbers. I'm a numbers guy so I listen, but I don't know what good and bad numbers are so it's hard for me to follow. Bottom line, though, she tells me I'll be free to go tomorrow if I want to.

  "Yes, I can't wait to get out of this hospital for a few days," I tell her.

  She looks at me with some concern. Then, before I know it, she blurts out, "Don't you want to be with your wife?"

  The truth is, of course I want to be with her. If it were my choice I would spend every last waking second with her, hospital bed or not. After being with Abby this long, I'm still just as happy spending time with her now as the first days we met. Abby has given me a job to do, though. The most absurd job ever, but a job she desperately thinks I need to do.

  "I know she's in good hands here," I say. "I just need to run a few errands, make sure the phone bill gets paid on time, ya know?"

  She gives me a suspicious look, and for a moment I wonder if she somehow knows the crazy plan. Then I remind myself she couldn't know anything. How could she?

  "We have people here that can tend to those things if you need. Just let me know."

  "I appreciate it, but I really think I just need a little fresh air and to get out for awhile. I'll be back soon, though."

  Maybe I'm stupid, but I think Nurse Jackie is starting to take an interest in me. She's come in a lot these past forty-eight hours, and it usually involves general conversation instead of the status of my well being. She talks about her coworkers and how annoying some of the doctors are, and also how she just broke up with her boyfriend. Every time she comes in now, she seems to get closer and closer to me and always puts her hand on my arm when she talks. "Andrew, if there's anything I can do for you, please let me know. Just push the red button and I'll come right away," she tells me.

  Perhaps she's desperate coming off a bad breakup. Whatever it is, as good looking as Nurse Jackie is, I'm not interested. She's a bit too young and immature for my liking. Besides, Abby needs me and I love her.

  The next morning, my doctor comes in with Nurse Jackie and gives me one final checkup.

  "Well Andrew, everything looks good. I think you're all set to go. I still don't think you're quite ready to drive a car yet, so if you want to leave the hospital and go home, your parents will need to drive you. I would recommend you take it easy for a day or two more, and then you can resume whatever it is you need or want to do."

  "Thank you, doctor," I tell him. "You guys have been amazing, and I'm so thankful for you and your staff for all the work you've done to get me to this point."

  "It's my pleasure," he says. "I wish you the best." With that, he walks out of the room. I can tell that while I'll never forget him, he won't be able to pick me out of a line-up a year from now.

  Now it's just Nurse Jackie and me, which I have to admit is starting to make me a bit uncomfortable.

  "Well Andrew, I'm really going to miss you. You take care of yourself, OK?"

  "Uhh, sure thing, Nurse Jackie."

  She giggles, "Oh, you can just call me Jackie now."

  "Sure thing, Jackie," I tell her.

  As soon as I say it, she gives me a big hug. The standard hug, I would say, lasts a few seconds at most. After ten seconds, though, I open my mouth to try and say something, but can't think of anything that isn't stupid. To my relief, she finally lets go and I can see on her face she's crying.

  "I really am going to miss you, Andrew. You've been my favorite patient I've ever had."

  "You're young, Jackie. I'm sure there will be plenty of great patients to come along in the future." Of course, when I say "patients" I really mean something else. It's my subtle and kind way of saying, "Back off sister, I'm married."

  I don't know if the same message carries through to her. She asks again if I need any more help, and I say I'm fine. Then, we say our goodbyes and she walks out of the room.

  My parents soon greet me, and my mom has a huge grin on her face. I don't think she's been this happy in her entire life. We've already had the discussion, but she asks again anyway.

  "Andrew, are you sure you want to go home now? They say Abby is starting to get better."

  "I'm fine mom, I'll come back in a couple days. I just want to go home. I miss my Wifi connection," I joke to try to ease the mood. Apparently, it's enough to get her off my back about leaving.

  I do want to go see Abby before I leave, but I've already been told nobody is allowed to see her today. My mother tells me Abby's parents weren't thrilled to hear that news, but the doctors say it's imperative she gets her rest.

  I climb into the wheelchair, even though I feel I'm more than capable of walking. It seems to be some kind of tradition with hospitals that you get pushed out in a wheelchair. Of course Nurse Jackie offered to take me, but I said my parents could handle the task.

  On the way home we make a lunch detour. I could have asked them to treat me to a four-hundred-dollar meal and I think they wouldn't have hesitated for a second, but instead I have them take me to where I'm really craving - Taco Bell. I splurge on a couple extra bean burritos, enjoying my first taste of something other than hospital food.

  When we get home, I'm overjo
yed to be here. I miss my couch, my flat screen TV, my WiFi connection, and the way the light comes in through our skylights. Life is good, although I have some mixed feelings from my latest memories in this house. Even though my seven-day journey in a world with everyone gone was just a comatose dream, it felt so real. Is it normal when you're in a coma to have one long dream like the one I experienced? I make a mental note to research this too, later.

  Without being allowed to drive, I'm still quite helpless. I make a list and my dad goes to the grocery to pick up supplies for me. Since I know they're paying, I make sure to add a few more items to the list. My mother and I watch TV, waiting by the phone for any updates on Abby. Her and Abby have had a bit of a rocky relationship, but what mother and daughter-in-law relationship isn't edgy when it comes to sharing an only child? They get along well enough, though.

  My mother expresses more concern with Abby than I do, but that's because she doesn't know what I do. My mind races with what Abby told me. The man in the black car -- where am I supposed to find him? How am I supposed to kill him? I don't even have a gun. While my mom is distracted with some girly show, I do some research online. Turns out, there's a gun store about a mile from my house. It's in a sketchy area, which is why I've never seen it before. I read the reviews and see it got two out of five stars. Looks like a lot of people living nearby complain about the kind of clientele the store brings in. This review says, "They would let practically anyone go in there and buy a gun." Perfect – just what I want! It says they are open until eight.

  My dad gets home and mom prepares a delicious pasta dinner, which has always been my favorite dish she makes. After dinner, she insists they stay the night. If it weren't for my new plan, I would love for them to stay. I don't really feel like being alone now. Partly because Abby scared the shit out of me, and partly because I just don't want to be alone. It's rare that I'm alone for the night. Maybe once a year Abby's friends plan a get together where they all stay at a hotel and party like college kids. Other than that, Abby comes home everyday at a quarter to six like clockwork.